You ever just sit in your student council office, sipping lukewarm vending machine soup, wondering if the glowing weapon you accidentally used in a lunchroom duel is a cosmic relic?
No?
Just me?
Cool.
Slime was on the floor stacking spellbooks to make a podcast "throne."
Whisper was floating midair, meditating over a scroll that kept trying to bite her.
Felora hadn't spoken to me since the cult invite. She glared at me through the door window like I owed her rent.
And me?
I was staring at the glowing toothpick on my desk.
It pulsed like a heartbeat. Soft, blue. Kinda judgmental.
I poked it.
It screamed in ancient tongues for 0.2 seconds and then stopped.
Whisper cracked an eye open.
"…You should probably take that to the Archive."
The Archive of Misplaced Artifacts was in the school basement.
It was also sentient.
Also always under renovation.
Also built like IKEA for wizards: stairs that lead to nowhere, haunted furniture, and one very tired golem named Barry who just wanted to retire.
"Back again, Charisma?" Barry groaned as I passed.
"Did I leave something down here?"
"No, I just figured you'd eventually summon a cursed object. You have the vibe."
Fair.
I followed the scent of burnt tea and regret to the Relic Reader Room.
In the center was a giant eye-shaped table made of dragon bone and sarcasm. You placed an item in the socket, and the Archive told you if you were about to die or become king.
So naturally, I put the toothpick in.
The lights dimmed. The walls whispered. My hair stood on end. Slime farted dramatically in the distance.
Then—words appeared in golden ink:
Item Identified: FANG OF THE LAZY WAR GOD
Alias: The Cosmic Stirrer. The Peace-Breaker. The One-Poke Apocalypse.
…
Whisper leaned closer. "It's a divine weapon."
"It's a stick."
"No, it's the stick."
[ FLASHBACK TIME, BBS ]
The scene rippled.
Suddenly we were staring at a memory recorded in space-time magic. The Relic Reader was projecting it on the walls like some high-budget Netflix trailer.
Location: Realm of Eternal Broth
Time: Like, 8,000 years ago
MC: The War God, P'Zalthor the Napless
Big dude. Silver armor. Glowing beard. Eyes like galaxies on fire. But… he was lying in a hammock with soup in his lap and a do-not-disturb sign.
"Mortals fight too much," he grumbled.
He reached into the soup. Pulled out a toothpick. Our toothpick.
"Time to end everything. Again."
Cut to: armies clashing in firestorms
Heaven gates collapsing
Demons breakdancing
The War God walking in with The Toothpick
He poked the sky.
The war… stopped.
Literally.
Everyone froze. Like a pause button for existence.
The War God said:
"Peace. Or I poke again."
They agreed. Instantly.
Back to Present
The vision ended. I blinked. Slime had tears in his eye.
"That… was the sexiest piece of wood I've ever seen."
Whisper just stared at me. "You dueled Felora… with a world-ending artifact."
"And used it to stir soup," I added.
"…You're cursed."
"I'm consistent."
More info appeared in the golden letters:
CURRENT HOLDER: CHARISMA LANGSTON
BOUND BY CHAOTIC WILL.
SEALED ABILITIES:
Poke of Instant Nap
Stirring of Reality Soup
Summon: War God's Left Slipper (Boomerang Version)
"What the hell is the Stirring of Reality Soup?" I asked.
The scroll next to me flipped open and hit me in the face with a diagram of space noodles collapsing into black holes.
I looked at Whisper.
"I'm giving this thing back."
"You can't. It's soul-bound now."
"I—WHAT."
As we left the Archive, the walls whispered something again.
This time… it was a warning:
"Fang of the Lazy God… has awakened." "Others will come for it." "The cult knows. The Slumber Court stirs."
Great.
I can't even own a cursed soup stick without starting an interdimensional turf war.
Back in my room, I locked the toothpick in a box. Then double-boxed that box. Then placed it under my bed with a protective slime trap.
Slime labeled it:
"World-Ender But Cute."
My phone buzzed.
[ Unknown Contact ]: you used the Fang… they know now
[ Unknown Contact ]: they're sending the Sleep Eaters
[ Unknown Contact ]: meet me at 3am. Rooftop. Bring pudding.
...
I turned to Whisper.
"Do I have enemies now?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"How many?"
"Lots."
"Why?"
"Because you poked fate with a weapon of divine nap destruction."
Slime gave me a thumbs up. "Worth it."